


Cherished by the Wisest Men

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Spider-Man (Video Games 2018-2020)
Genre: Canon Typical Descriptions of Violence/Injury, Cuddling, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-Game, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29202615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Harry does his best to convince Peter to take some time off.
Relationships: Harry Osborn/Peter Parker
Kudos: 55





	Cherished by the Wisest Men

**Author's Note:**

> webs and i were talking abt parksborn, naturally, and then i thought of harry and his symbiote gently bullying peter into relaxing and this happened! this is the softest parksborn i've written so far and i'm really pleased. i'm probably playing fast and loose w/ the actual mechanics of symbiote possession but idc. this is set post a hypothetical third-game. 
> 
> big thanks to han for the beta!

**_He’s home_**.

Harry opens his eyes at the symbiote’s voice. His back is to the window but now that the symbiote has mentioned it, he can hear Peter rustling around. The sound is easy to pinpoint even with the late-night sounds of the city carrying in through the open window.

Harry rolls his eyes to himself and doesn’t turn over to face his boyfriend quite yet. He listens to Peter’s soft and careful footfalls as he moves around the apartment. Peter slips out of the bedroom and into the attached master bathroom; not long after, the shower starts to run. Normally the sound would be soothing—Harry is the type to fall asleep to a rain machine—but for now it just rankles at Harry’s nerves, knowing Peter is probably washing blood and grit off his battered and bruised body.

**_Ours_** , the symbiote growls quietly. Harry usually tries not to give into the possessive nature of the symbiote, but this time he sinks into the feeling.

He was going to wait until Peter crawled into bed to scold him, but suddenly that’s not enough. Harry flings off the blankets and rolls out of bed. He approaches the slightly ajar bathroom door cautiously, listening for any sign that Peter has heard him. It’s hit or miss these days; he never used to set off Peter’s spider sense, but the symbiote complicates matters even now that Peter knows the creature isn’t a thread.

**_Just go_** , the symbiote urges impatiently.

Harry shushes the voice inside his mind and pushes the bathroom door open.

Tiredly, loud enough to be heard over the spray of the shower, Peter says, “Hey Harry.”

Harry shuts the door behind him and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. “Hey Pete.”

There’s silence for a few moments as Peter presumably washes himself down. The door to the shower is frosted glass so Harry can only see a disjointed silhouette of Peter. He can’t see any gaping wounds or huge gashes on Peter, but that doesn’t mean much. Peter can heal even grave injuries in the time it takes him to get from Harlem to Brooklyn.

Peter doesn’t seem to be in any rush to talk so Harry fills the silence. “How did patrol go tonight?”

Peter groans. “Could’ve been better,” he admits. “Shocker got out and decided he wanted to do a little shopping spree at a couple major banks.”

Harry grimaces. That’s the second time a villain of Peter’s has broken out in the last two weeks. It’s not like it’s anything new, but it’s exhausting for Harry—he can only imagine how tiresome it is for Peter. Harry isn’t sure how long it’s been, but he knows this shower is a far cry from Peter’s usual speedy ones. “Are you drowning in there?”

“I’m debating it,” Peter replies.

Harry starts stripping without much thought. Something in Peter’s voice, tired and guilty, spurs him into action. Harry’s body is still littered in little scars from his sickness, from the experiments, from the bumps and scrapes he endured when the symbiote was hellbent on destroying New York. Unlike Peter, Harry doesn’t heal so easily. Some wounds don’t heal at all. He’s still a little self-conscious of them, even in front of Peter. Despite this, he slips into the shower with him, immediately sucking in a sharp inhale at the sight waiting for him.

The bruise on Peter’s back is dark, angry, though yellowed at the edges where it’s starting to heal.

“Did you get hit by a bus?” Harry asks. It’s mostly a rhetorical question; he prefers not to know the nitty gritty details of Peter’s crimefighting when he can avoid it.

“Thrown into a bus, actually.”

Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Inside, he can feel the symbiote clawing at his insides. It wants to break free, wants to protect what’s theirs, wants to wreak havoc on anyone who dares to hurt Peter. Times like this it would be almost too easy to give himself over to the symbiote and let it have its wicked way with Peter’s enemies.

**_Let me_** _,_ the symbiote snarls.

Harry shakes his head and steps forward to gingerly wrap his arms around his boyfriend. “You should take a couple days off,” Harry murmurs against Peter’s wet shoulder. He knows what Peter’s response will be, because it’s always the same.

“I can’t.”

“You can,” Harry counters. “Miles can handle the city for a weekend.”

“He’s applying to colleges right now, he should focus on that.”

Harry can’t exactly argue with that so he says instead, “The city will survive without you for two days. Maybe even three.”

Peter tenses in his hold. “You don’t know that.”

It’s true. Harry doesn’t know that. Somehow, New York is the most bizarrely disaster-prone city he’s ever known. But he cares more about Peter than the city right now (which is saying something, because he cares about the city, the world, an awful lot) so he holds his ground. “It’ll be fine. You don’t need to stop every bank robber or purse snatcher.”

“It’s not about them,” Peter starts but Harry shushes him.

“It is, though. You could leave plenty of stuff to the cops for a couple days, you know it.” Harry doesn’t dare ask what the odds of another villain breaking out are, because he knows that’s just tempting fate. “Peter, please. You can’t keep going like this.”

Peter doesn’t reply but Harry knows the thoughts going through his head. They’re thoughts Harry has heard a dozen times over.

_I’ve been going like this for years, what else is new?_

_I can’t let anyone else get hurt, not on my watch._

_Someone has to do it, if not me then who?_

Harry only holds him tighter. Eventually, Peter’s hands—scuffed but healing—come to cover Harry’s hands where they sit on Peter’s chest.

“Harry,” Peter says.

A flicker of anger, bright and hot but short lived, is all it takes for the symbiote to make a break for freedom. It’s still a weird sensation, sharing this space inside his head with another creature. It’s even weirder when the creature takes control of Harry’s body and Harry just gets to watch. It’s strange to listen to the creature’s voice, deep and rumbling and staticky, come from his mouth. When the creature starts to speak, Peter jumps.

**_“You will stay home.”_ **

Simple, Harry thinks, but effective. Peter doesn’t deal with the symbiote directly often, beyond dealing with Harry’s increased appetite. Peter twists and looks over his shoulder. He’s staring into Harry’s face, sure, but it’s different when the symbiote is in control. Harry knows his eyes turn menacingly black, the whites of his eyes entirely disappearing; he knows the symbiote tends to grin cruelly, making Harry’s teeth seem sharper than they really are.

Peter doesn’t look frightened. Only tired, and a little fond. He twists in Harry’s grip and brings a hand to Harry’s cheek. Even trapped inside his head, Harry can register the feeling of Peter’s torn up palm against his skin. It makes the symbiote bristle but before it has time to go into a rampage, Peter is leaning forward and kissing them.

The symbiote likes that, they both know this. The symbiote likes kissing, likes licking into Peter’s mouth and stealing his breath away. Harry likes it more, though, especially because it allows him to snatch back control from the symbiote while it’s distracted. Harry sinks into the kiss with Peter and savors it for a moment. He’s not super thrilled by the faint copper taste in Peter’s mouth but it’s also nothing new. Harry is the one to break the kiss before reaching behind Peter to turn off the water.

“Let’s go to bed,” Harry says. Peter follows behind him as they step out of the shower, dripping all over the floor. Harry passes Peter a towel and they haphazardly dry off before meandering back into the bedroom and into bed. As they settle under the covers, with Peter curled around Harry’s back and clinging to him like a child holds a stuffed bear, Harry speaks. “I’m serious, Pete. You can’t keep this up. If nothing else, _I_ can’t handle it.”

It’s dirty pool, bringing himself into the decision. Peter does _so much_ for the city, but he’d do even more Harry. It’s definitely unhealthy, so Harry tries not to abuse the power. This is a special exception.

Peter sighs against Harry’s neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps along Harry’s cool skin. “Okay. Two days off, starting tomorrow.” He places a kiss to Harry’s neck, a long and lingering touch. “We can try out that bistro down the street.”

Harry smiles to himself. He knows there’s a good chance that something will come up that inevitably crashes their fun, but Peter’s agreement is soothing enough. He leans back against Peter and sighs contentedly. He can feel the symbiote starting to grumble inside his head, so he speaks before the creature can even voice its thought. “We’re going to have to buy _so_ many bagels.”

Peter snorts. “Of course.” 


End file.
